Ten Truths Of Life
by x-HotMess
Summary: That’s the thing about with playing with fire. Sometimes you want to be burnt. Chuck/Vanessa


_So I got tagged in the Camp Rock section by suburbs and MissNata13, but I'm on a bit of a GG rampage atm. WTF VANESSA? HE'S CHUCK BASS! ARE YOU CRAZY? And I'm so angry at Blair right now it's not even funny. Rules: Write ten, short drabbles, inspired by the following words (cheat, love, lust, lie, innocence, confusion, trust, disappointment, hypocrite and inevitable) in the point of view of any character you want. Also, give them some sort of love interest, or friend that they can base their thoughts around. Post the story with the title of "Ten Truths of Life". Tag five people. And that's it!_

_**Spoiler alert:**__ I wrote this after 2.20 "Remains of the J", so I kinda gave away what happened in the summary. My bad. It's also slightly AU, I'm not happy with the direction the writers took, obviously._

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**Cheat.**

"Let's play a game," Chuck smirked infuriatingly.

I glared at him as I fiddled with the zipper on my dress. "What kind of game?"

"Hide and seek," he leered at me, and my stomach turned.

"I don't think so," I huffed, sliding into my pumps and checking my reflection in the mirror one last time, to make sure I didn't look like I'd been doing exactly what I had been doing.

"Well then, how about a quick game of capture the flag," he raised a single eyebrow and held up my bra, dangling from his index finger.

I narrowed my eyes and tried to snatch it away, but he jerked it out of my reach at the last second. "Give it, Chuck, this isn't funny."

"No, quite the contrary," he murmured, reaching up and running a finger along my collarbone, making me shiver in a way I wasn't sure that I liked or not.

Sighing melodramatically, I pulled away and undid the halter strap of my dress, letting the fabric slither to my waist. I saw his eyes widen at the sight of my bare chest, and I took the opportunity of his momentary distraction to seize my brightly coloured undergarment from his greasy clutches. He looked dumbly at his empty hand for a second, before glancing back up at me as I fastened the clasp around my back and adjusting my dress like nothing had ever happened.

"I win," I imitated his smirk and was surprised to find him genuinely smiling at me.

"You **cheat**ed," he sounded like he was almost… proud.

"Your point?" I sneered condescendingly.

"That's my girl," His hand curved around my hip and slid up my back, pulling me closer and leaning forward to smother his mouth over mine.

I deftly avoided his lips and whispered in his ear, "I'm not your girl."

**Lust.**

_WhatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoing?_

It was meant to be a one time thing. Scratch that, it was meant to be a NEVER time thing. I couldn't stand the way Chuck would look at me like I was a piece of meat, making disgusting insinuations and enraging facial expressions. But then I saw Blair with her hand on Nate's chest and him smiling at her in the way he used to smile at me, and I panicked. I should have known better, but Chuck was right there and the second our eyes locked I could tell he was thinking the same thing as me.

His eyes darkened with** lust** and before I knew it his lips were over mine and I just forgot about everything else. He was more gentlemanly than I thought he would be. He didn't overstep my obvious boundaries, he didn't run his hands all over my body liked I half expected him to. He just slid his hand around the back of my neck and left it there, his thumb stroking smooth circles in my hair as our tongues battled for control.

Before I knew it Nate and Blair had left together, and the back of my knees had hit a mattress, making me fall backwards into the one of my more interesting life experiences.

I was going to leave without saying goodbye. He would have done the same thing if he had woken up before I had. But then he was speaking those words that dripped from his mouth like honey and I had to make sure that he wasn't forming some sort of emotional attachment. God forbid Chuck Bass actually considered a human being's feelings other than his own.

So we agreed it was nothing and soon enough my purple dress was back on the floor and we were doing nothing all over again.

It was a mistake, without a doubt.

But it was the best mistake I ever made.

_Yesyesyesyes._

**Love.**

Dan was always sneaking those glances at Serena, while Nate whispered sweet nothings into Blair's ear. Chuck was glaring at them venomously and I don't think I've ever felt more unwanted.

All these handsome boys fell in love with all these pretty girls, and soon enough there was no one left for me.

I pretended not to notice when Chuck's hand grazed the inside of my thigh, but the grip on my coffee cup tightened and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His infuriating smirk was plastered on again and I realised Blair was watching us while Nate had gone to the bathroom.

I know he brought me there to flaunt me in front of her, but he had barely looked at me since we arrived and all I really wanted to do was curl up into a ball under the table and hide from everyone. Dan was glaring at me condescendingly, but he didn't understand why I was doing this. Serena looked concerned, like maybe there was something wrong with me.

Thank you, Serena Van Der Woodson, you are a genius. Of course something's wrong with me. Why would any girl in her right mind agree to go on a freaking _date_ with Chuck Bass? I mean, it's one thin to have secret sex in dark places where no one can see you, but to be seen in public were everyone can see that you've got something going on, and it's a dead set guarantee it'll be reported on Gossip Girl within the next hour? Whatever happened to your standards, Vanessa Abrams? What the hell is wrong with you?

But then I saw the dark look that flashed across Nate's face as he sat back down next to Blair and she couldn't disguise what her attention had been focused on while he was gone.

I **love**d him. I gave him everything I had, and he barely returned the favour. So if this was what it took to make him see exactly what he had lost when he decided to give up everything we had for that Waldorf bitch, then that was precisely what I was going to do. And surprisingly enough, I was enjoying seeing him squirm. Chuck was certainly rubbing off on me.

The only time I felt a flicker of doubt was as we were leaving, Blair caught me by the arm and spun me around to face her. I pulled my arm out of her grasp and I saw her jaw clench.

"Play with fire and you're going to get burnt," her tone was clipped and threatening, but her eyes were sincere and I wondered where she got off looking out for my best interests.

She'd been down that path with Chuck before. It started of as one time in the back of a limo, and then twice, and then several times. She started out the same as me, with something purely physical which turned into an epic love story that ended with both of them never getting their happy endings. They were too alike, too stubborn, too self-destructive in their own ways.

That was not going to happen to me. I was not Blair Waldorf. If anything, I was the complete opposite. I'd learnt to guard my heart. There are very few things in my life that I **love**, because I've learned that what is **love**d is more easily lost than what is shown no more than a snide indifference.

So snide indifference is precisely all I planned to feel for Chuck Bass.

**Lie.**

I've **lie**d before, and I wasn't proud of it. I hurt Jenny and almost ruined my chances with Nate. Looking back now I wonder if it was even worth it. Nate dumped me and Jenny got over him. I was the one left with all the baggage and guilt. How was that even fair?

Lying is easy to do, but difficult to undo. Once you've said something untrue, you can't take it back right away. It has to run its course, until the truth is revealed and you're exposed to be a fraud. To be a different person to the one everybody thought you were. Of course, the only people who tell **lie**s are the people who have something to hide.

That's probably why I told Dan I was going to the library.

I took a deep breath as the elevator door pinged and I walked into the apartment that smelt familiarly like smoke and Bulgari cologne.

"Third time this week," Chuck raised his eyebrows at me from the sofa, taking a long drag from his cigar.

"Those things will kill you," I snapped, walking over to him briskly and pulling it out of his mouth, stubbing it in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table. "Is anyone home?"

The look in his eyes was tenderly surprised, like it mattered to him that I cared whether he lived or died, but then the corner of his lip jerked up arrogantly and it took all of my willpower to keep from smacking it off. "No," he smirked.

"Then let's go," I grabbed his wrist possessively, pulling him up from his seat and over to the stairs. We got about halfway up before he grabbed me from behind and pulled me into him, linking his fingers between mine and attaching his lips to the base of my neck. His other arm snuck around my stomach to toy with the button of my jeans, and I arched my neck at his warm touch.

"Is this still nothing?" he whispered in my ear, before nipping at my earlobe, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

"Yes," I **lie**d, digging my fingernails into the back of his hand.

"Okay then," he breathed, and peeled himself away from my back, letting me lead him the rest of the way into his bedroom and between his sheets.

Yes, we tell **lie**s to cover our tracks. To remain detached from those who we could possibly develop a connection to. Because if we didn't, they would know that they weren't nothing.

Not even close.

**Innocence.**

**Innocence **is basically the same thing as integrity, right? They both begin with the letter I, for starters.

When I first met Chuck Bass, I thought he was an insufferable bastard, just like everyone else. He was conceited, opportunistic, and grossly inappropriate. But then he said he actually wanted to help save that hotel in Brooklyn, and I saw a side of him I doubt many people had seen. Probably because most people couldn't care less if Chuck had a decent bone in his body. His reputation had always preceded him.

And then I found out it had just been some stupid Blair Waldorf challenge to get me to sleep with him. I was angry at first, but somehow I knew that he had genuinely cared about helping me. Somewhere in between the history of the old place and the chance at an opportunity to impress his father, his intentions had changed, even if he couldn't admit that to himself.

He thought he was so clever, dodging everyone's expectations, shocking people with his unorthodox actions, but god, I could see right through him like glass. We had real potential in the beginning. Before all the emotional baggage that seems to be standard procedure when it comes to dealing with Nate Archibald and Blair Waldorf, we could have had something really interesting.

I used to hope that his attraction was always there, lurking behind his eyes, just waiting for the right moment. I wasn't that naïve anymore. He didn't want me. He was using me, just like I was using him. So what the hell, I might as well get something out of the experience, right?

So I tagged along to his stupid dinner parties and high class functions, but my views in dealing with these people weren't so** innocent** anymore. They weren't just misguided rich kids with no work ethic or sense of humility. Behind the porcelain smiles and designer purses lay manipulative bitches who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. So if anyone wanted to fight dirty, I was ready to take them down all the way into the mud if that's what it took.

I think that's why Chuck brought me along in the first place. He wanted to break me in. He was sick of me being the condescending Brooklyn girl with the moral lectures and artsy interests. He'd started to show me what my life could be like if I opened my mind to Manhattan's elite.

Like I said, **innocence** is basically the same thing as integrity. Once lost, it is something very difficult to regain.

**Confusion.**

I sit inconspicuously at the bar, hoping he doesn't notice I'm here at the Victor Victrola. I watch his interaction with the women around him, ignoring the angry bubbles clawing at my stomach. What did I care that Chuck was fraternizing with the same old tramps? I wasn't supposed to. It wasn't as if we were really dating. It wasn't as if we had anything more than physical attraction. Really, we were only supposed to be around each other if Nate and/or Blair were within a one hundred meter radius.

And yet all this emotion is filling me up and I didn't know I could ever feel this much for one person and yet here I am, feeling it. And I don't even know what it is. There are so many parts of Chuck that I don't know, I didn't want to know. But now I do. I want to know everything about him.

Like why does he always drink his scotch on the rocks? How many different limo drivers has he had? Did he know their names? Was he the kind of guy who asked? My gaze darted back to where he was standing a moment earlier, and I inexplicably tensed with panic when he wasn't in my sights. Suddenly a hand tightened on my shoulder and I jumped in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Chuck growled as he pulled the cosmopolitan glass away from my lips.

"I heard Nate was coming here tonight to see you, I thought maybe I could be around to make a scene if need be," I feigned easily.

"Nate's at his cousin's wedding," he chuckled. "I should know, I turned down the invitation to attend."

I paled and I felt my throat tightened. Fuck. This was not supposed to happen. He was not supposed to find out.

"Cut the crap, V. I know why you're doing this. I want to say don't, but I just can't bring myself to," he smiled, almost shamefully and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I don't… I don't understand," I stuttered, ignoring the way he was looking at me was making my heartbeat go crazy.

"I don't want to be together to spite them anymore," he sighed. "I just want to be with you. I know we started this out of revenge, but it's beginning to feel a little bit more like redemption. Like it's a chance for me to treat a woman the way I've always should have. I can only give you pieces of me, and you deserve more, I know, but just… give me a chance, V."

"Wait, I'm **confused**," I shook my head, trying to clear the alcohol induced spinning in my brain. "What are you…?"

Then he cut me off as he kissed me sweetly, like he'd never kissed anyone before, and it all fell into place. Maybe we had more in common than we originally thought.

**Trust.**

Once my walls were up, there was very little anyone could do to bring them down. So when they were brought down by the person I least expected, I wasn't even sure if I they could be rebuilt.

My common sense was telling me that is was a _bad_bad_**bad**_ idea to fall in love with Chuck Bass, and that was an even worse idea for him to fall in love with me. I was waiting for the burn that comes from lighting a match and just holding onto it until the flame reaches your fingers. Then you have two options.

1) Blow it out. Stop it from burning you. The end.

2) Keep holding on until your skin blisters and the match burns out and you can look at your scorched fingertips and say _I won_ while everyone around you thinks you're fucking insane.

I could feel Chuck's fire growing closer and closer to my fingers, the heat was getting to me, it was hurting a little, and yet I couldn't bring myself to blow it out. I knew that if I could just hold on, I'd make it out the other side and although nobody would understand why, it would be worth because I was _wrong_wrong_**wrong**_ about him. He was a good person. I knew it. If Blair had waited just a second longer before throwing herself of the ledge, he would have caught her. But she slipped through his fingers, and somehow I didn't think he was ever going to get her back again.

I didn't want her to get him back again. He was better with me. We were better with each other. I loved romping around Manhattan with him, taking spontaneous trips to the Hamptons and once even to the Bahamas. He was changing, growing, becoming a wonderful person. Bass Industries was flourishing under his watchful eye, he was still as charming as ever, except now instead of his smug arrogance making me want to claw my eyes out, it just made me want to take him on the meeting table right there and then in front of all his investors.

So I promptly had a major freak-out when I saw that he had been spotted with Blair Waldorf at NYU over the weekend. The bastard told me he had been meeting with a potential new business partner. I rang him up in an agitated state, but the second I heard his soothing voice I felt _stupid_stupid_**stupid**_ for getting worked up over nothing.

"V, I was not with Blair. **Trust** me."

I smiled and nodded into the phone, saying the words but not really hearing them. "I believe you."

See, the thing about playing with fire is, sometimes you want to be burnt.

**Disappointment.**

I wasn't the girl who blackmailed and cheated and lied just for fun. Blair and I would never be on the same page. I wasn't the girl who strung along naïve boys for months and months to suddenly change her mind at the drop of a hat. Serena was a goddess, but that didn't give her the right to break those hearts. I wasn't the girl who tricked her friends for a chance at petty revenge or could turn on someone so fast it would make their head spin. Jenny had become somebody I barely knew anymore. And I certainly wasn't the kind of girl that stuck around for political interns when I could be backpacking around the world. Nate and I had all these big plans, and in one night, they all came crumbling down.

Needless to say I was kind of used to **disappointment** from the Upper East Side. It was only a matter of time before Chuck Bass let me down.

"How can you not care? How can you act like what we had together was nothing?" I screamed.

"Because it was, remember?" he narrowed his eyes at me and a fire erupted in my chest.

"I thought you had changed," I choked through my closed throat as I struggled not to cry. I would not cry over Chuck Bass, because Chuck Bass was nothing to me. Just like we agreed.

"No, V, I stayed the same. The only thing that changed was you," he bit down on the inside of his cheek and the look in his eyes was indecipherable.

"What are you talking about?" I hissed, laying a hand on my hip that I had stuck out in protest.

"Look at yourself, Vanessa," I knew he was being serious because he never called me by my full name. "Can you honestly tell me that given the chance, you'd go back to making coffee in a downtown art studio?"

My hands tightened around my Prada purse and I resisted the urge to kick him in the balls with my Manolo Blahniks. I'd worked damn hard to get out of Brooklyn and into the Manhattan for him. I'd compromised everything; my beliefs, my integrity, my bank account, my college education; all so he could have someone worthy on his arm. He never asked me to, but he'd made it pretty clear that's what he wanted.

"Stop trying to make this my fault," he snapped, turning on his heel and walking out.

The worst thing was he didn't even try to fight for me. He thought I was a fucking detour. His boho barista that he cleaned up and debuted to society. But in the end he just did what he does best; sucks you in, chews you up then spits you back out again when he's gotten all that he needs from you.

And then the only person I was really **disappointed** in was myself, for becoming another victim of Chuck Bass's world.

Well, two can play at that game.

**Hypocrite.**

"You act like you're so much better than this life, but you're not. You like it. You like being in control."

"As opposed to enjoying my life being totally out of control?"

"At least when it was out of control you had an identity."

"I have an identity now! It's just a better one. I couldn't let Blair get away with stealing you away from me."

"She didn't steal me. I _left_. I wanted her. We were always in the wrong places at the wrong times in our lives, but now we're together and it's just so right."

"Well if it's so right, why are you up here on the roof with me instead of down there comforting her?"

"I needed an explanation. After all your condescending rants and everything, I can't believe you of all people have ended up here."

"This isn't the first time we've been on a roof together."

"No, I meant here. Being this. I can't believe you would go as far as to do something like that to someone like Blair."

"How is that so hard to believe? She ruined my life. She's hated me for years. It's just a little payback."

"Since when have you believed in payback? See, this is exactly what I'm talking about! You're such a **hypocrite**!"

"Are you high? I have never…"

"The only way to bring down a Queen B is by being one, and congratulations V, you're the one wearing the crown."

"How dare you talk to me like that, Chuck Bass! You're the fucking **hypocrite** here!"

"Vanessa, I'm sorry. I loved you, I did. I loved the old you. The one who didn't take my crap."

"I'm still not taking your crap."

"Because we're not together. When you changed into an Upper East Side princess, you just weren't a challenge anymore."

"You son of a bitch. Challenge this!"

_Smack._

**Inevitable.**

I never expected it to end well. Chuck just invites drama and heartbreak, and I was never one for throwing tantrums, but he fucking broke me and I think I've earned the right.

They're looking at me like they don't even know who I am anymore, and they're right. They made me like this. Them and their fucking society that sucked in Dan and Jenny and I followed them like the helpless little sheep I was. They opened my eyes to this new world, and I had to pretend like it was all beneath me because I was Vanessa Abrams, free-thinker, hater of 'The Man', high-horse extraordinaire.

It was only **inevitable** that I would be swept off my feet and blow them out of the water. It's all their fault. So I don't care when I hear the whispers behind my back and I've stopped taking to checking Gossip Girl every ten minutes because I know there will always be something about me on there, whether it be fact or rumor. But as long as they're talking about me, I don't even care.

Don't look so surprised.

They know they love me.

ex oh ex oh.

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_I tag basically anyone who wants to do this who hasn't already.  
You can do whatever category you want, I was just in a GossipGirly mood.  
I'm new to this scene, so what did you kids think? __**Review plz xoxo.**_


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